


a rose by any other name

by totallyunrelated



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Percy is a good boyfriend, unexpected haircut a la monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyunrelated/pseuds/totallyunrelated
Summary: Having long hair is dangerous when you're a demigod, and Annabeth Chase learns that the hard way.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 1
Kudos: 62





	a rose by any other name

“I WILL RIP-!” The monster’s enraged shriek was cut off by a horrible gargling sound as Riptide cleaved through its throat, a bronze blur followed by a burst of gold dust. Percy stifled a sigh and whirled to face the next monster, this time running it through with an ice spear that came out of nowhere. He grinned ferally, baring his teeth and sending a hail of ice shards through a nearby hellhound. Even though it was annoying that his afternoon had gotten interrupted yet  _ again _ by monsters - and what a nice afternoon it had been, he’d been on a date with Annabeth out in San Francisco on one of their rare free days off from their college classes - it was still satisfying to be able to practice his new powers. He’d discovered them on one snowy New York day when he’d been absolutely freezing and getting irritated at being unable to control the snow, and to make matters worse he’d been smacked in the back by a flying snowball. Unconsciously, he’d formed a snowball with his powers and sent one flying back, and ever since then he’d been experimenting with his newfound ice powers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed monsters randomly erupting into showers of gold dust, though Annabeth was nowhere to be seen. The crowd of monsters had somewhat thinned, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Though monster fighting was pretty much routine now, and they always got out unscathed, they couldn’t afford to get cocky and any fight would always have risks. It was always better to get it over with as soon as possible. 

He stabbed a dracaena in the gut and beheaded a hellhound in the same move, spitting gold monster dust out of his mouth. He was just about to skewer the Cyclops in front of him -  _ sorry, Tyson _ \- when a familiar scream rang out.

_ Annabeth’s _ scream.

The Cyclops was treated to an ice shard in his eye as Percy spun around in a panic, throwing out ice shards as he did. More golden dust exploded from behind him, but he paid it no attention.

“Annabeth!” he yelled. He scanned the battlefield, but found it completely empty, devoid of monsters and of Annabeth. “Annabeth, where are you? Are you okay?”

Across the field he spied a glint of something long and gold among the heaps of monster dust that were already beginning to float away on the breeze, scattering like golden snowflakes. He coughed, waving a hand in front of his face to clear it away as he sprinted to the object, panic rising within him. When he got close enough to see what it was, he sank to his knees in front of it, picking it up reverently, tears cascading down his face.

In his hands was Annabeth’s golden ponytail, still bound in the elastic he remembered gathering her hair into that morning, the princess ringlets that he’d loved running his hands through springing free without her smoothing hands.

Annabeth. Where was Annabeth? She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. Maybe some monster had taken her. Whoever it was, he would kill them, kill them slowly. Annabeth loved her hair. She would never just let a monster cut her beloved ponytail off without exacting her revenge.

“Annabeth!” he called again, just in case she had been luring the monster off somewhere to kill it. “Annabeth!”

Something tightened in his gut. Wind started howling in his ears, water started falling from the sky. He stood, surrounded by a whirling hurricane of ice shards with only the promise of vengeance in his eyes.

But before he could do anything, a small voice rang out, clear even over the wind.

“Percy, I’m here.”

The wind died down. The ice melted. Percy whipped around, searching for her. But the field was still as empty as it had been before.

“Annabeth? Where are you?” he called, confused. “Why can’t I see you?”

“Right here,” said her voice, which came from right in front of him. He stared hard at the space in front of him. If he squinted hard, he could barely make out her outline, wavering in the air. She was invisible. But why?

“What are you doing?” he asked, reaching a hand out. He felt a small gust of air as she stepped back out of his reach, and frowned. “Are you okay? Why are you still wearing your hat? Did something happen?”

“I can’t take it off,” she said, sounding close to tears. Percy stepped forward, wanting to comfort her, but his hands only met empty air.

“Why? Is there something wrong with it? Did your mom do something?”

“No,” she snapped. “I just - I just can’t!”

Percy stared at where he thought she was, brow furrowed. “What’s wrong, ‘Beth? Are you injured? Please talk to me, I’m really worried about you.”

It was a testament to how upset she was that she didn’t immediately correct him on his use of her nickname, which she usually only let him use when she was feeling particularly down or when they were having sex. His frown deepened.

“It’s stupid,” she mumbled, sniffling. Percy’s heart twisted. He hated seeing her upset, but he couldn’t help her if she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong.

“What? No, ‘Beth, nothing you could ever do would be stupid. No matter what it is, I promise I’ll always be here for you.”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” she said in a tiny voice.

Percy smiled reassuringly. “I promise.”

The air shimmered in front of him, revealing Annabeth, eyes downcast and hat held in a white-knuckled grip. He was by her side in two steps, gripping her in a tight hug. She relaxed into his arms.

“Gods, Annabeth, you scared me,” he mumbled into her hair. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head; she melted into him, arms coming up to fist in his shirt. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, okay? I thought I lost you.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just - I didn’t know what to do.”

“Why? What happened?” He pulled back, holding her at arm’s length to scan for injuries. When he found none, he looked back up at her in confusion. 

She stepped back, one hand coming up to tug at her hair. “You really don’t notice anything different?”

He looked her over again, from head to toe, letting his eyes linger. She blushed. “No?” he said, almost as a question.

She rolled her eyes at that, muttering “ _ boys” _ under her breath in exasperation. “My hair, Seaweed Brain!”

“Ohhh,” he realised, suddenly remembering the ponytail he’d found.

He looked her over again. Where before, her hair had fallen to her waist, now it rested slightly above her shoulders, the ends choppy and uneven. He had never seen her with short hair before, she’d always kept it long and luscious, a rare point of vanity for her, but it suited her. Without the long waves, she looked even more striking, and Percy could feel himself blushing. She had apparently mistaken his staring as something else, though, because without so much as a word she put her hat back on and vanished again. Percy blinked, shocked out of his daze.

“Annabeth!”

“I look terrible,” was her sulky reply. “I know you think so, too.”

“What? No, Annabeth, you look beautiful. Always have, always will.”

She scoffed. “No, I don’t. You’re just saying that because you have to.”

“No, Annabeth, really. I think it suits you. Long hair, short hair, even no hair - you’ll always be beautiful to me. I love you and I always will.”

She hesitated. “You really think so?”

“Of course. Would I lie to you?”

“You would,” she grumbled, but there was amusement in her voice. Finally, she shimmered back into view, still frowning. “Six years of hard work gone down the drain,” she bemoaned, tugging on a short curl mournfully. “It will take  _ years _ for it to grow back!”

“It’s just hair,” said Percy consolingly, putting an arm around her waist and using the other hand to ruffle her hair. It felt strange, his hands coming free so easily - he’d hopelessly tangled his hands in her hair multiple times before and always gotten yelled at for it - but it was a good kind of different. He had meant it when he said it suited her. “And either way, you’ll still be gorgeous.”

She sighed, but laughed when he reached over to tug on a curl, now too short to twine around his finger. They walked in companionable silence, until they reached the edge of the tree line and she came to an abrupt stop. He was jerked to a halt alongside her. 

“Annabeth? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t go out looking like  _ this _ !” she cried wildly.

“You look fine,” Percy tried to reassure her.

“No, I don’t! Just look at this!” She grabbed a handful of hair in her hand and gestured, poking the ends angrily. “I’ll be laughed at by everyone who sees me!”

“They wouldn’t dare,” said Percy. “You’re the most gorgeous girl in the world.”

She huffed.

“We’re not far from New Rome,” he coaxed. “Just a couple blocks and we’ll be home. I guarantee you that nobody will even notice.”

She glared, not deigning to reply, instead putting on her Yankees hat again and disappearing from view. 

  
  



End file.
